


The Birdwatcher and the Wingman

by Spiderlily_Writes



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Fluff, Marianne is a Disaster Lesbian, Number One Gay Ally Raphael Kirsten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29766921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiderlily_Writes/pseuds/Spiderlily_Writes
Summary: Marianne finally manages to make a friend, though she isn't quite sure how it happened. Raphael, because he is a delight, decides that he's going to not only be her friend, but also help her out with her love life. Unsubtly.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 13
Kudos: 61





	1. Observation

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! A request from my pal [Justy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justfe3hthings/pseuds/justfe3hthings). I do hope you enjoy!!

Trying to take up as little space as possible, Marianne shuffled across the cafeteria to her usual spot. In the corner. Alone. She liked it there, she would insist to anyone who asked. It was relatively quiet, let her relax between classes, kept her back to a wall so nobody would sneak up on her, and was a generally unappealing spot for most people to sit, so it was rare that she had company. And she  _ never _ had company twice in a row.

Occasionally, other students would feel bad for her, and would try to sit down at her table and strike up a conversation, but she supposed she was just too sullen for them. Or too soft-spoken. Or too annoying, or fidgety, or…something. Marianne was used to being too much for people. Even if the thing she had too much of was simply silence.

But still, there was a kind of peace to be found, there, at her usual table. She’d been sitting there every lunchtime since her freshman year at Garreg Mach Private High School, and given that it was her senior year now, it had become quite the routine.

Once she’d settled into her chair and deposited her backpack on the chair next to her, she opened her lunch box, pulled out the salad she’d packed that morning, and tucked into it with gusto. Today’s was a simple chef’s salad with some diced egg, and fresh croutons from a separate little plastic bag tucked away in the corner, so that they didn’t get soggy during the day.

She closed her eyes as she took a bite and sighed, happy to finally be able to do something about the growling of her stomach. This, however, proved to be a mistake, as it allowed someone to approach her table without her noticing, pull out a chair, and sit down. The newcomer’s tray of cafeteria food hit the tabletop with a noisy clatter, and it was enough to make Marianne jump in shock, snap her eyes open, and nearly choke on her salad.

Marianne coughed, putting a hand to her chest and patting a couple of times as she managed to dislodge the bit of romaine that she nearly sucked down into her lungs. As she did, she looked up at her visitor, and was surprised to see Raphael Kirsten, captain of the GMHS wrestling team, looking back at her. This in itself was nearly enough to make her panic, but she managed to relax.

_ Easy, Marianne _ , she reminded herself, taking a deep breath.  _ They all get bored and go sit somewhere else, eventually _ . She looked up, giving him a smile that she hoped was polite, but probably just looked nervous. He nodded politely, and set about systematically devouring what must have been at least three normal lunches from the school kitchen.

He wasn’t noisy, or rude, and he didn’t chew with his mouth open, so as far as Marianne concerned, there were certainly worse people who could have chosen to sit near her. Indeed, once he began to eat, he seemed almost to forget she was there. They enjoyed their meals in relative silence, which was…odd.

Marianne had never really interacted with Raphael much during their time together at school, but they were in the same class, and he always seemed to be a fairly boisterous and bombastic person. So the fact that he didn’t even  _ try _ to engage her in conversation was very strange. It was  _ welcome _ , of course; if Marianne  _ had _ to have a dining companion, she would prefer a quiet one. Better to not have any chances to embarrass herself.

They continued in this way for the rest of that lunch. When the bell rang, indicating that it was time to return to class, Raphael nodded politely, took his tray to the bin for dirty dishes, and left her in peace. And that was that. He didn’t try to talk to her, didn’t talk to anyone else near her, didn’t stare at her,  _ nothing _ ! He was simply unerringly, unflinchingly well-mannered.

He did the same thing the next day, as well. And the one after that. And the one after  _ that _ . Each day, the same routine. Marianne would arrive at the table first, sit down, begin to eat, and Raphael would join her a couple of minutes later. They would finish their food sans eye contact, and then return to their normal places once class was to begin again. Marianne wondered, of course, what possessed Raphael to begin to eat with her, but when he didn’t bother with talking to her even once all week, she began to relax. Perhaps he just wanted a quiet place to eat, too. She could respect that. Soon enough, he began to blend into the background, and it was like he wasn’t even there.

The following Monday, Marianne unpacked her lunch as usual, sat down in her usual spot, and began to eat, just as always. Her eyes drifted across the cafeteria, as they often did. She never brought a book to lunch, nor did she play with her phone like some students did. Marianne preferred to spend her time peoplewatching.

It was a lot like birdwatching—another hobby of hers—but it was somehow even more intriguing. She saw her classmates going about their lives, talking to each other, laughing with each other, sometimes even fighting with each other. It was about as close as she would ever get to engaging with them, and she was always careful to never let her eyes settle on any one person for too long, lest she be accused of being ‘creepy’ or ‘strange’. Or at least, any stranger than they already considered her.

Except…

There was one person for whom she broke that rule. Only one. Her gaze came to rest on the one, single exception, as it often did, and she allowed herself an extra few seconds of watching, because she didn’t know if she could bear to look away.

Hilda Goneril, of course. She was certain that she was  _ far _ from the only one who would stare at the captain of the cheer squad; Hilda was far too lovely to be ignored. She was pretty, but that was only part of it. She was so nice, and friendly, and charismatic, and oh, her  _ laugh _ . Marianne thought about her laugh sometimes, at night, and wished so much that she could be the one to draw it from her.

But that would never happen, of course. Marianne could never even  _ talk _ to Hilda, let alone ask her on a date. And even if she did, well, why on  _ earth _ would Hilda ever say yes? She could have her pick of anyone in the school! Men, women, it didn’t matter. Marianne was certain anyone would fall at Hilda’s feet.

No, she would have to be content to watch Hilda from afar, dreaming, fantasizing, so that her hopes could never be dashed. As long as she never got that rejection for real, she could pretend that perhaps, just perhaps, there could be something between them. She watched as Hilda turned to a friend, smiling wide, and—

“Girls, huh?” Raphael mused, and Marianne dropped her fork in her salad and nearly screamed.

She did manage to restrain herself, though, and she dragged her gaze away from Hilda to look at Raphael, who had, once again, sat down at the table when she wasn’t paying attention. Marianne was stunned.

“I’m…sorry?” she said, hesitantly, realizing that he’d probably seen her staring. Oh, Goddess, with her luck, he’d be one of Hilda’s friends, and he’d tell Hilda that some creepy girl was staring at her in the cafeteria, and—

“Girls,” he reiterated, gesturing to her backpack. Marianne followed Raphael’s own gaze and realized that he was looking at her small, unobtrusive pride flag pin. Oh. Well. That was at least a  _ little _ bit better. “They’re pretty, right?” he asked, as though appreciative.

Marianne hesitated again. Was he…hitting on her? Would Raphael do that? She couldn’t really say for sure. “Um. Yes,” was the response she eventually settled on, with a quick, barely-noticeable nod. He nodded back, then picked up his sandwich and began to eat, as though that was all perfectly normal. Maybe it  _ was _ perfectly normal. Marianne couldn’t say. She’d never really had friends before. At least, not human ones.

A few more minutes passed before, apparently deciding that his first attempt at conversation hadn’t frightened her too badly, Raphael spoke again.

“You’re in my biology class with Ms. Casagranda. Are you…like…good at it?” he asked, in between bites. Having gotten a few minutes to adjust to the idea of conversation with someone, and given the change of subject, it didn’t catch her quite so off-guard.

She finished her own bite of food and took a drink of water, biding her time as she very carefully considered her words, trying to make sure she wouldn’t embarrass herself. “Yes. I…I think so. I mean, I know I’m in the class, I think I’m…okay at it, maybe. Why do you ask?”

Raphael smiled, visibly relieved. “Oh, good. So. I don’t know if you’re busy after school, but would you be willing to stay after today and help me with the homework? I’m pretty sure she’s gonna pop a quiz on us tomorrow and I’m  _ definitely _ not ready for it. If not, it’s cool, no problem, I understand if you have things you need to do.”

Marianne chewed it over for a moment. She could certainly say she was busy, claim she had things to do at home, or that she had too much homework for other classes. She absolutely  _ should _ do that. The Goddess only knew what she might do to embarrass herself. And yet…she felt comfortable with Raphael, or at least as comfortable as she could feel with someone. Like he was honest, and wouldn’t make fun of her too much if she messed up. He seemed nice.

“Well…okay. Sure. I think I can do that. I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” Marianne said, giving him a faint smile.

He returned the smile, and there was so much  _ warmth _ in it. Marianne didn’t know if she’d ever manage an expression like that, but it certainly felt nice to be on the receiving end. “Great! Oh, man, that’s such a relief, because I think I’m maybe a little screwed.” Then, he paused, as though remembering something. “Is it okay if I bring a friend who has her for another period? I don’t think you know them, but they’re really struggling, too, and I think three people would study better than one or two, right?”

Marianne’s already-weak smile faltered. Studying with just Raphael was already pushing it, but meeting up with him,  _ and _ a stranger? That might just be too much. It might kill her. But just as she was about to open her mouth to politely decline, he spoke again.

“And it’s totally fine if not! No pressure. I just think they’d appreciate the help, and you seem really smart whenever Ms. Casagranda asks you a question.”

Well. If it was a friend of Raphael’s, could they really be that bad? True, he seemed to get along with everyone at least a little but, but it was probably just one of his friends from the wrestling team or something. She could make it through that. Goodness, she might even…enjoy it?

“…I suppose that would be okay. If they’re…uh…nice. And quiet.”

“Marianne, you’re a  _ lifesaver _ ,” Raphael said, a little louder than he maybe needed to. But then, he did  _ everything  _ a little louder than he needed to. “We’ll meet you in the library at about three-thirty, okay? Does that work?”

“S-Sure.” Marianne tried not to be nervous. After all…

How bad could it be?


	2. Studiousness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something fishy going on here.

At three-thirty on the dot, Marianne was sitting in the library, waiting for Raphael and his friend to arrive. She tried very hard not to be nervous; she’d been spending most of the day since lunch reminding herself there was nothing to be nervous about. She’d interacted with students in class before, when she had to, and that had usually gone alright. And if it had just been Raphael, well, she probably  _ wouldn’t _ have been nervous at all. He seemed fairly easygoing, all things considered, and she wouldn’t mind spending time with him.

But the friend? They were an unknown quantity. And Marianne was always a little uncomfortable when there were social situations involving unknown quantities. So she drummed her fingers against the tabletop and thought sociable thoughts.

“Yeah, I dunno,” said a familiar feminine voice, behind the shelves and just a little too loud for the library. “I just can’t wrap my head around the whole like…energy cycle, or whatever. It’s confusing. Are you sure you couldn’t just do my homework  _ for _ me, Raph?”

Marianne froze as though she’d been dunked in a lake in the dead of winter. She knew that voice. How could she not? She’d spent many a lunch period admiring its owner.

“Hilda, come on,” Raphael said, laughter coloring his voice. “It can’t be  _ that _ bad, and I even managed to find someone who can help a little bit.”

For the shortest, briefest moment, Marianne considered how she might be able to get out of the library without them seeing her. She could claim she felt sick, and had to go home. Raphael might be angry with her, and she might lose her chance at making a friend, but at least she wouldn’t be embarrassing herself in front of her crush.

But no. She couldn’t do that. She’d feel horrible for breaking her word. So she steeled herself, took a breath, and tried to look casual as she stared down at her textbook and waited for them to see her.

“Marianne, hey!” Came Raphael’s booming basso a moment later. Then, seemingly realizing where he was, he cut his volume significantly. “Hey, this is the friend I mentioned. Hilda.”

Marianne looked up at the two of them, forcing a smile onto her face as she squeezed her pencil a little extra tight. “H-Hello Raphael, and hello Hilda.”

Hilda smiled back, and hers wasn’t forced in the least. Why would it be? “Hey, Marianne! I didn’t know you knew Raphael! I don’t think we’ve ever like,  _ talked _ , but I’ve seen you around. It’s good to meet you!” she said, whipping a chair out from under the table and plopping down into it. “Are you  _ sure _ we have to study? Couldn’t we just like, hang out, instead?” Hilda, honest to goodness, batted her eyelashes, and Marianne’s heart did a somersault.

She couldn’t respond to that, not really. Marianne looked up at Raphael for support, and with a roll of his eyes, he sat down in the chair next to Hilda’s, directly across from Marianne. “Hilda, come on; be nice. Marianne’s taking time out of her day to help us with this class; the least we can do is participate.”

“I  _ am _ being nice!” Hilda shot back. “I’m just also trying to get out of doing work.”

“Yeah, well, your charmer routine isn’t going to work on Marianne,” Raphael said, incorrectly. Hilda pouted in response.

“Um…” Marianne cut in. “It’s nice to meet you too, Hilda. Are you ready to get started?”

Hilda heaved a huge, exaggerated, weary sigh before reaching for her bag and pulling out a notebook and pen. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she grumbled. “Let’s start with the crabs cycle or whatever.”

“You…you mean the Krebs cycle, right?” Marianne clarified, and Raphael snorted. With that, the three of them set to work.

It wasn’t actually as difficult as Marianne expected it to be, which she supposed was a blessing. Once they actually got into the educational material properly, it was easy to forget that one of the people she was tutoring was someone she’d had a crush on for years. She was just another classmate for now, and she felt some of the tension leaving her as, to her surprise, nothing awful happened.

Marianne didn’t say anything embarrassing, she didn’t get teased or made fun of—she even made Hilda laugh once or twice! It was such a strange experience, after spending such a long time afraid of interacting with the other girl, and she found herself glad that this was the context for their first meeting, because it gave her something to do, other than be nervous.

Their studies continued apace for about half an hour, until Raphael groaned and leaned back in his chair. Marianne stopped, mid-sentence, and looked up at him. “Raphael, are you okay?” she asked, upon seeing that he seemed as though he was ill. Hilda looked up, too.

“Yeah, I’m—” Raphael began, but he stopped when his face twisted in pain. “Ouch. I think maybe something I ate for lunch didn’t settle so good. I’m…gonna run to the bathroom. You two keep going, okay? I think I got it, mostly.”

Before either of them could react, Raphael stood, swept his belongings off the table and into his backpack, and half-jogged out of the library. Hilda stared after him.

“Well. Alright then,” she said, blinking. “I guess it’s just you and me, Miss Mari.”

At Hilda’s words, Marianne felt her heart skip a beat. They’d only just met, and Hilda was already referring to her with so much familiarity! Her face went warm as she considered the implications of such a gesture, of all the things it might mean. All of a sudden, without Raphael as a buffer, the reality of her situation began to sink in. Hilda suddenly felt very, very close, and Marianne felt panic begin to rise in her chest.

“Hey, you in there?” Hilda asked, waving a hand in front of her face. Marianne shivered, forcing the anxiety away. She had a job to do, and she  _ would _ do it. “Don’t worry about him,” Hilda continued, clearly misunderstanding the reason for Marianne’s distraction. “This happens a lot. He eats way too much and ends up with an upset stomach. We can keep going, no problem, just you and me.”

Marianne frowned. “Are you…um…certain that you don’t want to take a break? You didn’t seem like you really wanted to study in the first place. I understand if you’re bored.”

Hilda seemed conflicted for just a moment, and then she huffed in frustration. “No, I didn’t, and I still don’t. But I do need to, and…” She smiled at Marianne, warm and genuine. “You’re a pretty good teacher. This stuff seems a little less boring when you’re the one talking about it.”

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the compliment. Hilda…enjoyed spending time with her? She wanted to listen to her? It was unbelievable, too exciting for words. Maybe she wouldn’t screw this up. Maybe they could at  _ least _ be friends. Was that too much to hope for?

So they continued, as Hilda requested. She wasn’t actually as bad at most of the material as she seemed to believe she was. Hilda just clearly struggled to really put her mind to things, and between the insightful questions she asked, and the answers she gave Marianne, it was clear that she was much more clever than she seemed.

As Marianne read one passage from her textbook, Hilda’s face turned sour, and Marianne trailed off mid-sentence.

“Yes? Is everything okay?” she asked, worried that she’d done something wrong. “Do you want me to start over?”

“No, I don’t think that’ll work. I think I need to look at the words on the page. Gimme a second.”

Marianne nodded, reaching for the book to spin it around and slide it over to Hilda, but she stopped partway through the motion as Hilda got up from her seat, rounded the table, and sat down in the vacant chair next to Marianne. She did it as though it was nothing. As though she didn’t brush against Marianne’s arm when she did. As though she didn’t touch her and set her skin on fire.

“Makes more sense, right? Since it’s just the two of us. That way we can both see the book and stuff!” Hilda declared, and Marianne fought down a whimper. Hilda was  _ so close _ ; one of her twintails brushed against Marianne’s shoulder, she could smell her perfume, she could feel the warmth of her body, and the sensations were nearly overwhelming.

“I…Yes, yes it does,” Marianne said, struggling to remain calm. “A-Anyways, this is the passage I was reading to you.” She pointed out the beginning of the paragraph, and forced herself to take a deep breath as Hilda read it to herself. She could do this.

Hilda hummed. “Yeah, okay, I think I get it now. There’s just a lot of big words that it’s easy to mix up.”

“I’m glad it makes sense,” Marianne replied. “Shall we…uh…move on to the next chapter?”

“Yes ma’am,” Hilda chirped. “I feel so much better about all this now. Can you just, like, teach me the whole class?”

Marianne laughed. “Hilda, I…I think that would take a while,” she said, and Hilda sighed dramatically.

“For you, Miss Mari, I have all the time in the world.”


	3. Chilly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's cold up there in the bleachers.

Marianne wasn’t  _ mad _ at Raphael, per se. She didn’t know if she had enough anger in her to be mad at the big teddy bear of a man. He was imposing, sure, but he was sweet as candy, and so Marianne knew he didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable with his little stunt last week in the library.

He had met up with her at the lunch table the next day, of course, and apologized for running out on her and heaving her alone with Hilda, but something about his apology hadn’t seemed…totally genuine. There was a twinkle in his eye, like he knew something she didn’t, like it was all according to some kind of plan. But she pushed those thoughts away. She couldn’t imagine Raphael would be subtle.

But then, was it really subtle to claim he was having stomach problems and take off running out the door? She sighed. Marianne could ruminate on this forever, or she could just get on with her evening.

This time, in what she was sure was an effort to make Marianne feel included, Raphael had invited her out to one of their school’s football games. It was certainly not the way Marianne usually spent her Friday nights, but Raphael had been so nice, and she knew, logically, that it was probably good for her to get out once in a while, so she’d taken him up on the offer. Even if it made her uncomfortable to be around so many people. The October wind blew harder as she trudged up into the stands to sit next to him—Raphael was not hard to spot in a crowd—and when she reached the topmost level of the bleachers, she felt increasingly glad that she had elected to bring a nice, big blanket to wrap around herself during the game.

She slid in next to him, where he had saved her a spot, and he nodded in greeting. Curiously, there appeared to be a space, about big enough for a person, on the other side of him as well. Marianne hummed, concerned. As before, she knew anyone that Raphael brought along with him would likely be nice. Furthermore, she knew that it couldn’t possibly be Hilda  _ this _ time, because Hilda was a cheerleader, and the cheerleaders would have to be busy with, well,  _ cheering _ .

“Hey, Marianne!” Raphael boomed, as usual. He certainly didn’t have to worry about making himself heard over the din of the crowd, like Marianne did. “Glad you could make it!”

“Y-Yes, well,” she began, turning to face him and pulling her blanket tighter. “I thought getting out might be…uh…good for me. And…fresh air. And…you know…” she trailed off, hoping he would get the rest. It was difficult to speak up; Marianne had never really been very loud.

Raphael nodded sagely. “Of course. The food’s pretty okay too. You want some nachos?” he asked, offering her the tray he was holding in one massive paw. She shook her head.

“No, thank you. Um, Raphael?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we waiting on someone else? It looks like you saved an extra—”

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” someone complained, from her other side. Marianne jolted in her seat as though she’d been struck by lightning, and turned to see none other than Hilda Goneril, standing in the aisle. “It is  _ so _ cold out here, I’m so glad I don’t have to be down there on the field in my uniform tonight.”

Marianne had to make a conscious effort not to gape as Hilda shuffled in front of her, moving to Raphael’s other side and plopping down in the open space there with a heavy, irritated sigh. She looked from Raphael to Hilda, and back to Raphael, and she could have  _ sworn _ that she saw a cocky grin on her friend’s face.

“Hi again, Marianne!” Hilda said, and unless Marianne misheard, she sounded much more…perky, than she had upon arrival. Marianne couldn’t help but wonder why. “Thanks so much for the help with my biology stuff last week. We had a quiz, and I passed!”

“O-Oh,” Marianne said, taken aback at the praise. She felt her face growing warmer despite the wind that continued to blow about the three of them. “Well, I’m glad, but I’m sure you would have been fine anyways.”

Hilda shook her head, pink locks bouncing cutely from side to side. “Nonsense! You were super helpful and I definitely owe you a favor. You just let me know if you ever need something, okay? I mean it. Anything.”

She winked, and Marianne coughed and looked away, trying very hard to keep thoughts of what ‘anything’ might be from overrunning all her normal, sane, logical ones. It took her a moment to find her voice again.

“So…uh…” she began, changing the subject. “I thought you would be, you know, cheering tonight. Did something happen? Are you okay?”

Hilda plucked a nacho off Raphael’s plate, dipped it in the little cup of cheese that sat in the corner, and popped it in her mouth. “Nope,” she said, after swallowing it. “I mean yeah, I’m fine, but nope, I’m not cheering tonight. We let the girls from the middle school come up and do one game every year, so this is my night off!”

“Yeah, I thought it might be fun if Hilda came to hang out with us. You two seemed to have a good enough time studying, right?” Raphael said, sounding more hopeful than anything else. “Sorry if I kinda put you on the spot, Marianne.”

She wanted to be annoyed with him for it, but when Hilda leaned forward and pouted, any chilly feelings she might have had simply melted away. “Aren’t you glad to see me?” she asked. She was clearly teasing, but the question still made Marianne panic for a moment.

“No, I’m really glad! I like you, I—” she began, then her heart skipped a beat and she realized what she said. “I…really like hanging out with you. Both of you,” Marianne added, quickly, and when Hilda gave her an earnest smile, she felt like maybe she didn’t screw up too badly.

The game proceeded, with the three of them making occasional comments and bantering about the things they saw around them. Hilda and Raphael were very good at bouncing jokes off each other, and despite how much she usually felt like an outsider, she didn’t really feel that way, tonight. She felt as though she was part of it all.

It was around halftime, as the marching band was about to take the field, that someone came for Raphael.

It was Claude, actually; Marianne had seen him around in much the same way as she’d seen Hilda, but they’d never really interacted beyond that. She was surprised to see him jogging up the stairs of the bleachers, to where the three of them sat, and she nudged Raphael, who turned and waved to him.

“Hey Claude! How’s it goin’?” Raphael asked, after finishing the last nacho on his second platter. “You need something?”

Claude nodded, coming to a stop next to their row of seats. “Yeah, I—”

“Hi, Claude!” Hilda chirped, from Raphael’s other side.

“Yeah, hi to you too, Hilda,” he huffed, before turning back to Raphael. Claude seemed fairly fit, but running up a flight of stairs in the cold still seemed to be a bit more of a task than Marianne would have attempted, in his shoes. “Hey, I’m sorry to bug you man, but my car’s acting weird. You know about cars, right?”

Raphael shrugged, wiggling his hand in a ‘so-so’ gesture. “Kinda. Little bit.”

“Great. Come give me a hand, would you?” Claude asked, beckoning for him to follow. “I’ll uh…buy you a hot dog or something?”

Marianne didn’t think she’d ever seen someone make a decision so quickly. Raphael stood up without hesitation, took one big, lumbering step past Marianne, and turned to face the two girls.

“Hey, are you good if I go deal with this? You’ll be fine, right?”

“Well—” Marianne began, but Hilda beat her to the response.

“I’ll be alright! I have Marianne to keep me safe,” she said, winking at her, and Marianne flushed once more.

Raphael gave them one quick nod of acknowledgement before following Claude down the stairs and out of sight. And just like that, the two of them were alone together once more. If Marianne didn’t know better, she’d say Raphael was doing this on purpose.

“Sorry, guess you’re stuck with me,” Hilda said, mock concern filling her voice. “I hope I’m not too much trouble.”

Marianne swallowed. She couldn’t imagine Hilda ever being too much trouble. Marianne could spend every waking moment with Hilda, and she didn’t think she could ever get tired of that. She shook her head.

“N-No, it’s fine,” she insisted, and Hilda gave her that darned smile again. It was a smile that reminded Marianne, in no uncertain terms, how smitten she was. At the very least, she didn’t feel quite as nervous, since the last time they’d been alone together had been quite nice. “I don’t mind at all.”

Hilda hummed, thoughtful. “Hey, why don’t you scooch over here a little bit? The last thing I want is some stranger to come sit between us,” she said, and Marianne could not have possibly agreed more. As much as the idea of being close to Hilda intimidated her, the idea of someone she didn’t know getting that close intimidated her far more. So both of them scooted a little closer to one another on the bleacher, filling Raphael’s initial spot, so close they were nearly touching.

As the game began once more, and gave the two of them something to watch and discuss, Marianne felt a little of her nervousness dissipate, much as it had last time. It wasn’t so bad. Hilda, despite Marianne’s overwhelmingly massive crush on her, was fairly easy to get along with, and the two of them fell into a comfortable conversational rhythm.

Eventually, though, there was a lull, and Marianne cast a wary glance over at Hilda, just in time to see her shiver. “Goddess, it’s so cold out here,” Hilda mumbled, drawing in on herself just a bit. “I should have worn the bigger jacket.”

Marianne could have slapped herself, she felt so stupid. She’d been sitting there next to Hilda, the whole time, without noticing the flush of her cheeks and the subtle stiffness of her movements. Of  _ course  _ Hilda must be cold. And there, Marianne had been, wrapped up in her blanket so selfishly.

“Um…” she began, hesitant. “I have a blanket.”

“Yeah, seems nice. I’m jealous,” Hilda grumbled. Marianne tried again.

“I-I mean, I’m not that cold, if you want to have it. I’ll be fine.”

At that, Hilda looked up and met Marianne’s eye. “You mean it?” she asked, then stopped. “But…then you wouldn’t have it. You’d get cold.”

“I’ll be okay, I—”

“Nope. I’m not taking your blanket. If you really want me to have it, I insist that we share.”

Marianne felt a dagger of pure, icy terror pierce her heart. “But…it’s…it’s not very big. I don’t know if it would stretch over both of us!” she argued, but Hilda snorted.

“It looks plenty big enough. We’ll just get close, it’s fine. I promise I’m not stinky.”

Hilda? Stinky?  _ Never _ .

Marianne hesitated for a moment more, then realized that every second she hesitated was a second she left Hilda out in the cold. So she swallowed hard, adjusted the blanket, and passed half of it to Hilda.

Hilda took her half of the blanket and, as though drawn by a magnet, slid right up against Marianne’s side. The warmth and closeness of her was nearly enough to make Marianne dizzy, and she pulled her half of the blanket tighter around both of them, keeping in as much of that shared body heat as she could. “I-Is this okay?” Marianne asked, barely above a whisper. She thought that if she spoke any louder, her voice would simply break.

“Hm. Gimme a minute,” Hilda said, and somehow shimmied  _ even closer _ , going shoulder-to-shoulder, arm-to-arm with Marianne. She leaned in, resting her head on Marianne’s shoulder, almost as though she was trying to use her as a pillow. Marianne’s heart beat faster, and she tried not to whimper in response. Hilda was…well, she was practically  _ snuggling _ with her. Under a blanket. She was so close, Marianne could smell her shampoo,  _ swore  _ she could feel Hilda’s heartbeat, and Marianne didn’t think she’d ever been warmer in her life.

“There,” Hilda said, with a satisfied sigh as stray pink hairs tickled Marianne’s neck and chin. “Perfect.”


	4. Frosted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hotter in the kitchen.

Marianne stood outside Raphael’s door, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, trying very hard not to look like a doe caught in the headlights of a car. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been invited over to a classmate’s house—it had probably been elementary school, back when it was customary to invite everyone in your class to birthday parties, rather than just the people one liked to be around.

Most of the invites had stopped coming, once that was no longer the norm. She’d told herself that this didn’t bother her, but if she were being completely honest, it had always stung a little. Perhaps that was when her self-confidence really began to tumble downward. But that was neither here nor there.

Today, she’d come over to Raphael’s house, at his request, to help him prepare for the wrestling team’s bake sale fundraiser. Raphael had insisted that he knew a little bit about how to bake, but that if Marianne was more knowledgeable, he could really use the help. He had _implored_ her. Very nearly _begged_ her. And, of course, how could Marianne say no to _that_? He had been so kind to her, he had worked so hard to include her, and the least she could do would be to help him make some cupcakes.

And besides, how bad could it be? It was _Raphael’s_ house. Nothing strange about it. Nothing untoward would happen. She didn’t trust people often, but she got the distinct feeling that she could, with Raphael. So she raised her hand, took a deep breath, braced herself, and rapped her knuckles against the front door.

From inside the small, one-story house, Marianne heard the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps as someone—by the sound of it, Raphael himself—hurried to the door. And sure enough, when it opened a few moments later, she was greeted by the sighed of an aproned, flour-covered, slightly out of breath Raphael.

“Marianne, hey! I’m so glad you could make it!” he said, and once again, she couldn’t help but be reminded of an overeager and excitable puppy. She smiled softly to herself as he continued. “Come on in, I was just getting the ingredients out.”

Raphael stepped aside to allow her in, and she examined him once more as she passed into the house. “Just getting the ingredients out? But…you’re already covered in flour,” Marianne said. “What happened?”

He closed the door behind her and snorted, turning to lead her through the hall and into the kitchen. “Well,” he said, as they walked, “whoever used it last clipped the bag shut, but put it in the pantry upside down. Probably Mom, she can be a little bit, uh…what’s the word?”

“Absent-minded?” Marianne supplied, helpfully. The irony wasn’t lost on her.

“Yeah, that’s the one! Absent-minded. So she put it in the pantry, the clip got caught on the shelf, and…well, we’re a little short on flour now, but we should still have enough.”

Marianne was about to respond when she was cut off by a voice, shouting from the kitchen.

“Hey, Raph, how do you work your oven? It’s so _old_ ,” it said, and Marianne really didn’t even have the energy to be surprised this time. Of _course_ Hilda would be here, too. She’d thought she might get to have an anxiety-free outing this time, but apparently, that was just too much to ask for.

Raphael pushed open the door to the kitchen, and Marianne followed him in. There, in front of an oven, looking positively flabbergasted, was Hilda Goneril, yet again. She turned to regard them as they entered, and Marianne watched recognition flicker in Hilda’s eyes.

“Oh my god, Marianne again! Hi!” she said, sounding just as bouncy as ever. “I’m so relieved; I thought Raphael was expecting _me_ to do all this stuff!”

“Um, hello Hilda,” Marianne said, and she felt as though she was perhaps a little less sheepish than last time. Exposure to Hilda had sort of…worn away at her anxiety, just a little bit. And, well, after the second half of the football game last week, during which Hilda had cuddled up to her and nearly dozed off, she felt like there was probably very little about Hilda that she couldn’t handle at that point. “I’m glad to see you, too.”

At this point, there had to be something going on. The first time, in the library, it could have been a coincidence. The second time, at the football game, that was suspicious. But the third time Raphael had invited Marianne to do something outside of school, just like the previous two, Hilda was here. She began to wonder if, perhaps, it was the setup for some kind of joke. Or prank. Perhaps he’d seen Marianne staring at Hilda and was waiting for just the right moment to embarrass her. Goddess, maybe he—

No. Not him. Not Raphael. She forced herself to breathe. The two of them were probably just very good friends. He probably didn’t think anything of including another person. And it just so happened that it was Hilda. That had to be it. And at the very least, it seemed like Hilda wanted to be her friend, so it couldn’t be all bad.

As Raphael went to help Hilda with the oven, Marianne went to the counter to take stock of the situation. There seemed to be all of the normal, average, standard cupcake-making supplies that she would expect, as well as all the necessary tools. It seemed that Raphael was, perhaps, more competent than he had initially let on. He could probably do this without her help at _all_ , really, and Marianne felt, once again, incredibly thankful that he decided to invite her along anyways.

While the oven was preheating, the three of them set to work on the preparation of the cupcakes. Well, really, it was more like two of them set to work, with Hilda asking questions and providing moral support along the way. She would sometimes pass an ingredient along, or proffer a tool or implement before Raphael or Marianne asked for it, but she didn’t seem to want to do much of the work. That was fine, though, as too many cooks trying to work at once was a surefire way to ruin the recipe. And Marianne was happy to have Hilda’s company, regardless.

Hilda was so sweet, and so fun, and so enjoyable to have around. She was like a ray of sunshine, when Marianne struggled to see herself as more than a cloudy day, and simply being _near_ the young woman was enough to brighten her mood—especially once the initial awkwardness of their meeting had worn off. She tried to repay that kindness with knowledge, tried to show Hilda how to mix and measure and prepare the batter, but it seemed as though Hilda was struggling to pay attention.

Any time Marianne would try to point out something in the recipe, or show Hilda a motion or method, she would look up to see if Hilda seemed to understand, if she was following. But nearly every time, Hilda’s gaze was off target. The first time it happened, Marianne could write it off as distraction, but the fourth time she tried to teach Hilda something and found her staring at Marianne, instead of at the workspace, she began to wonder if she was perhaps doing something wrong.

“Is…is there something on my face?” she asked, and Hilda hummed, as though noticing that Marianne was speaking for the very first time. “Or…on my shirt?” Marianne looked down at herself, but she saw nothing.

“Oh, nah,” Hilda remarked. “Sorry, I get distracted sometimes. Can you go over that again?”

It was tempting to groan, as she’d very carefully explained her process for preparing the frosting already, but she chastised herself. Hilda probably had a lot on her mind, and it wouldn’t do to be frustrated. So she did so, walking Hilda through the ingredients again, and through the process of combining them, and this time, at least, Hilda seemed to be watching her hands.

In short order, the cupcake liners went into the tray, and then the batter went into the liners, and the whole mess went into the oven. Marianne couldn’t help but be a little relieved. Teaching was _exhausting_ , even when the student was attentive. Hilda, being anything _but_ attentive, only made the process harder. But she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad. Not at Hilda.

As Marianne moved to the sink to wash the stray bits of batter from her hands, a voice, one she hadn’t heard before, called from somewhere in the house.

“Raphy!” pled the voice, and Marianne cocked her head, surprised, then turned around to look at her host.

“Is there someone else here?” she asked. “She sounds…quite young?”

Raphael put a batter-covered palm to his forehead, as though lightly striking himself. “I can’t believe I forgot to mention my sister,” he said, with a chuckle. “Her name is Maya, she’s eight. And she’s _supposed_ to be working on her homework.”

“Well that’s probably why she’s yelling for you, _big bro_ ,” Hilda teased, folding her arms and leaning against the counter next to Marianne. “I know whenever _I_ yelled like that, it was because I was about to rip a worksheet in half and I needed Holst to come help me.”

Marianne smiled. It must have been nice to have siblings. As an only child, she wouldn’t really know. “That’s sweet, that she knows she can ask you for help,” Marianne added, and Raphael sighed.

“I’m so sorry, guys, I should probably go give her a hand. Will you two be alright without me?” Raphael asked, wiping his hands on his apron. He sounded legitimately concerned.

Hilda laughed. “Yeah, I think we’ll survive five minutes alone in the kitchen. I’ll try not to fall into the oven or anything.” Marianne nodded in agreement. “You better hurry. I think I hear paper starting to rip,” Hilda added, and Raphael groaned, making a beeline for a staircase upward that Marianne hadn’t noticed.

And, once again, leaving Hilda and Marianne alone together. There was a silence between the two of them, and it wasn’t long before tension began to creep into it. Hilda cleared her throat as Marianne finished washing her hands and turned off the sink.

“So…” Hilda said, trailing off, staring off into space. She was…blushing, unless Marianne was mistaken. Why would Hilda be blushing?

“Hilda, are you…um…feeling okay?” Marianne asked, concerned. “Do you need to sit down?”

“Nope, ‘m good,” she insisted.

Marianne hesitated. “If…if you say so.”

The tension returned, both women staring at opposite walls, a mere couple of feet from each other. Marianne felt her heartbeat quicken. It was as if she was waiting for something, or expecting something to happen. There was a nervousness she couldn’t put her finger on, and it was building by the moment.

Hilda took a deep breath, then cast a sidelong glance at Marianne. She saw it out of the corner of her eye, but didn’t take her gaze off the small portion of wall it was fixed upon. Marianne was trembling slightly; she could _feel_ Hilda looking at her.

“Hey Marianne,” Hilda said, clearing her throat and pushing off of the counter, then taking a step closer to Marianne. There was something in her voice, an undercurrent of…excitement, maybe? Giddiness? It sounded odd, and it was hard to place. “I uh…think you have some frosting on your face,” she continued, squinting as she beheld Marianne.

A hand came up to wipe the offending smudge away, but Hilda’s came out and caught it by the wrist, sending a bolt of lightning through Marianne at the touch. “What?” Marianne asked, now truly worried. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah I just…I mean, you just washed your hands. Let me get it.”

That made sense. Perfectly reasonable, and of _course_ Hilda would be so considerate. Hilda let go of Marianne’s hand, and lifted her own up. Marianne closed her eyes, so she wouldn’t flinch as Hilda moved to wipe away the errant frosting, but nothing came.

Her face was on fire. Her heart was pounding. It was hard to breathe. She didn’t know why she felt this way, why she was shaking, why anticipation was frying all of her nerves, why her skin was so hot.

Nothing happened. There was no touch, no brush with either a hand or a towel. She waited, one beat, then two, then three. Just as Marianne was about to open her eyes, she felt it.

It wasn’t just one finger, though, it was no delicate swipe. She felt Hilda’s palm come up to her cheek, her fingers landing just in front of Marianne’s ear. Marianne gasped, she _almost_ opened her eyes, but then she caught a whiff of roses, and she felt a hot, gentle breath blow across her lips. She whimpered slightly as it was followed immediately by the sensation of Hilda’s mouth against her own.

Hilda’s kiss was so gentle, so soft, so plush. It didn’t demand anything in return. If anything, it was far more hesitant, far more nervous than Marianne would have expected from her lovely, boisterous, energetic classmate. But she certainly wasn’t going to complain. Part of her was screaming, panicking, and unsure of what to do, but the part of her that had wanted this for _so long_ was by far the dominant portion, and that part of Marianne caused her to melt into the kiss.

When they broke apart, Marianne’s eyes flickered open. She saw Hilda, mere inches away, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly parted, and she knew she would do anything—absolutely _anything_ —to make Hilda kiss her like that again.

“H-Hilda,” Marianne breathed, as though speaking too loudly would scare Hilda away. “You…I…”

“Was that okay?” Hilda asked, clearly anxious, but equally quiet. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, but—”

“No! I m-mean yes! It’s okay. It was okay!” Marianne hurried to sputter, and relief was plain on Hilda’s face. “But…but why? I didn’t know that you…I mean…you feel…”

The corner of Hilda’s mouth quirked up in a tiny, self-satisfied grin. “I…I mean this is like our third date, right?” she asked, still sounding a little unsure of herself, but certainly more confident than Marianne was. “Isn’t that when you usually kiss someone?”

“Our third…” Marianne began, trailing off. “But…but Raphael?”

“Isn’t here,” Hilda said, smiling wider. “He’s a really great wingman, huh?”

 _Wingman_.

For all her tutoring, Marianne didn’t think she’d ever felt more stupid. And yet, as Hilda leaned in to kiss her again, she found that she didn’t really care.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading, and thanks to my fabulous editor [tansybells](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/tansybells/pseuds/tansybells). If you would like to follow me on twitter, find me [@spiderlilywrite](https://twitter.com/spiderlilywrite)!


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